Pitiless Games, Chapter 14: The Tiger's Roar
Chapter Fourteen has an argument with the Chantry and then breaks everyone's hearts, and goes by The Tiger's Roar(and on AO3. Full text also below the cut.) Chapter is SFW; story overall is rated M.
Title: Old Roads: Pitiless Games
Rating: M (for the sexytimez, and for occasional graphic violence)
PC: Amell
Word Count: ~127k, ~9k this chapter
Spoilers: At this point, it's not so much spoilers as it might not make any sense if you haven't played through Origins/Awakening...
Summary: Amaranthine is destroyed, and Warden Amell travels to Vigil’s Keep to take command. But one either must play the game of politics or be used as a pawn, and like it or not, every last one of Kathil’s demons are about to come home to roost... Amell/Zevran/Cullen, post-Awakening, multiple viewpoints, Part 5 of Old Roads.
Author's Note: This chapter is one of the more heartwrenching things I've written lately.
She walked slowly towards the Grand Cleric, measuring every footfall, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. Murmurs rippled through the gathered forces as she crossed bloodstained and scorched earth. Armor creaked and scraped softly.
She knew how she looked, in her armor, her sword hung at her hip, wisps of hair that had escaped her braid ruffled by a cold, freshening breeze. Her mouth was so dry.
Kathil paused about twenty feet away from the Grand Cleric, and drew her sword slowly. The Templars nearest her laid their hands on their sword hilts, but did not attack. "I bury the sword and would speak to you plain," she said, using a phrase that had been used in Ferelden since its founding, making sure her voice was pitched to carry. She turned Spellweaver's tip towards the earth and then struck downward. The blade's tip slipped between cobblestones and sunk in half a thumb's length. It was enough to satisfy custom, and enough to reassure the Grand Cleric that she would have a few moments' warning if Kathil tried to attack her.
Elemena came forward, still on the arm of that mousy sister with the astonishing voice. "I am glad you have decided to be reasonable," the Grand Cleric said. Her own voice was soft and creaky. "This is Sister Orphea. She is my scribe and my voice."
Kathil inclined her head in acknowledgement. "You may wish to keep your opinions of my reasonableness in reserve until you hear what I have to say," she said. "So. What is it that you want, Your Grace? Your notes were not what I would call clear, precisely."
"'Ware what comes, Commander, for she is hungry and you are foolish."
Title: Old Roads: Pitiless Games
Rating: M (for the sexytimez, and for occasional graphic violence)
PC: Amell
Word Count: ~127k, ~9k this chapter
Spoilers: At this point, it's not so much spoilers as it might not make any sense if you haven't played through Origins/Awakening...
Summary: Amaranthine is destroyed, and Warden Amell travels to Vigil’s Keep to take command. But one either must play the game of politics or be used as a pawn, and like it or not, every last one of Kathil’s demons are about to come home to roost... Amell/Zevran/Cullen, post-Awakening, multiple viewpoints, Part 5 of Old Roads.
Author's Note: This chapter is one of the more heartwrenching things I've written lately.
She walked slowly towards the Grand Cleric, measuring every footfall, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. Murmurs rippled through the gathered forces as she crossed bloodstained and scorched earth. Armor creaked and scraped softly.
She knew how she looked, in her armor, her sword hung at her hip, wisps of hair that had escaped her braid ruffled by a cold, freshening breeze. Her mouth was so dry.
Kathil paused about twenty feet away from the Grand Cleric, and drew her sword slowly. The Templars nearest her laid their hands on their sword hilts, but did not attack. "I bury the sword and would speak to you plain," she said, using a phrase that had been used in Ferelden since its founding, making sure her voice was pitched to carry. She turned Spellweaver's tip towards the earth and then struck downward. The blade's tip slipped between cobblestones and sunk in half a thumb's length. It was enough to satisfy custom, and enough to reassure the Grand Cleric that she would have a few moments' warning if Kathil tried to attack her.
Elemena came forward, still on the arm of that mousy sister with the astonishing voice. "I am glad you have decided to be reasonable," the Grand Cleric said. Her own voice was soft and creaky. "This is Sister Orphea. She is my scribe and my voice."
Kathil inclined her head in acknowledgement. "You may wish to keep your opinions of my reasonableness in reserve until you hear what I have to say," she said. "So. What is it that you want, Your Grace? Your notes were not what I would call clear, precisely."
"'Ware what comes, Commander, for she is hungry and you are foolish."